


Pun Relief

by Talvin



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Eiffel Tower, Gen, Humor, I understand Chat all too well, Interviews
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 10:52:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8369506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talvin/pseuds/Talvin
Summary: “All laughter is born of pain, Mademoiselle Césaire."





	

Observation deck of the Eiffel Tower. Alya had had to grovel a bit to get this spot reserved, but once they found out who she would be interviewing, they were all for it.  “Just don’t let him break anything this time,” they said.  “We know it always gets fixed, but still, we worry!”  
  
“And finally we are nearing the end of the LadyBlog’s exclusive live-stream interview with Chat Noir! Chat, before we go, one final question I have been wanting to ask for a long time:  why all the jokes?  I mean, what’s up with all the puns?”  
  
Chat flashed a dazzling smile at the camera, “Oh, you know, Alya, unlike those other comedians, I really will _stand-up_ for Paris!”  Alya laughed, but then her face turned sober.  
  
“No, seriously.”  
  
Chat’s grin faded, and he looked away for a moment, then back.  “Seriously?” Alya nodded.  Chat took a deep breath, “Alya, why does anybody make jokes?  And why do we laugh at them?”  
  
“Uh…because it’s funny?”  
  
Chat nodded, “Yes.  But…why? What makes something funny?  Let’s try this: last week I made a purr-fectly amazing Pun right here on the Eiffel Tower, and My Lady showed her gratitude by grabbing me by the tail and pitching me into the Seine.  You put the video on your LadyBlog, and everybody has been sharing it and laughing about it since.  Funny, wasn’t it?”  
  
Alya was trying to smother her giggles, “Oh, you **know** it, Chat!  It’s already in the top ten for most viewed videos on the LadyBlog! It was **hilarious!** ”    
  
Chat chuckled and nodded, “Yes, it was, wasn’t it? Now if I picked you up right now and threw you off here and into the river, would that be funny?”  
  
“HUH?  Uh…I mean,” Alya started backing away.  Chat made a placating gesture.  
  
“WHOA, Alya!  Not gonna do it!  It wouldn’t be funny at all.  You would probably die.  Right?”  
  
“Y-yeah!  I mean, not funny, so not funny…and we are all laughing at you for it…oh man, that’s not good, is it?”  To her surprise, Chat laughed.  
  
“ _Au contraire!_ It was, as you say, hilarious.  The difference, of course, is that you know I will _not_ die. The similarity is what is important, here.  Whether it’s you, or it’s me, it’s…kinda scary, isn’t it?  A big shock!”  
  
Alya took a moment to ponder this, mindful that they had a live audience.  “I mean…kinda?  At first I was like ‘Omigod she threw him off the EIFFEL TOWER into the RIVER, but then my mind caught up with my emotions and I realized…oh, that’s funny!”  
  
“Alya, I have spent a lot of time thinking about humor and laughter, and I have read what others have to say on the matter.  We laugh…because it hurts.  All laughter is born of pain.”  Alya had no reply.  Just…blink…blink. Chat continued, “Seeing someone thrown off a high building is a really intense experience.  I should know: I’ve had to catch a few of them!”  A startled giggle from Alya.  “Yes, that!  Somebody takes a dive off the Eiffel Tower, it’s _scary_!  Someone is going to get hurt!  But…what if they don’t?  What if they…can’t?  You have all this emotional energy built up, and it has to come out, but there is nothing to cry about, nothing to be angry about, but still all this energy eating you up inside…it has to come out!  So we laugh.  It’s a safety valve, you know?”  
  
Swallowing back tears ( _Why do I want to cry now?_ she thought), Alya replied, “So, laughter is a way of dealing with things that would normally be scary or painful, but we find that they aren’t. Like…a mime…not THE Mime, I mean a regular non-Akumatized mime, whacks somebody in the head with a hammer. But there is no hammer, he is just pretending.  So it’s funny.”  
  
“Very good!” The catboy gave her an approving smile, which she returned.  “But sometimes we laugh when it IS scary, when it DOES hurt, too.  You mentioned The Mime, who was certainly one of the scariest Akumas we have ever fought.  He brought down this tower, after all!  And there I was, making puns, cracking wise, and being my inimitable, ever-witty self!”  Alya didn’t even bother to hide her eye-roll at this line.  Chat paused, then stood up and stepped to the fence, looking out over Paris.  Alya quickly adjusted the camera to follow him.    
  
“Look out there, Alya.  A whole city under siege from a sick psycho who can take over people’s minds, turn them into villains or monsters based on their most private emotions, their fears and frustrations and anger.  A guy who often as not picks _kids_ , teenagers and even little kids, to fight his battles.  It doesn’t get much scarier than that.  There is a lot of pain to go around.  The thing is, I cannot afford to give in to that fear, to cry from the pain.  You are all depending on me.  So I make jokes.  I pun.  I laugh it up.  It makes it a little less scary for me, and it makes you all less scared of me.”  
  
“Scared…of _you_? But you are Chat Noir, one of our heroes!”  He did not answer that for a full minute, and Alya was almost ready to change the topic, when he turned and fixed his gaze on something across the platform.  
  
“Litter.  Up here.  They aren’t supposed to have drinks up here, but…could you fetch that paper cup for me, please?  I need it.”   The young journalist quickly did as she was bade and held it out.  “Thank you.  Just hold it there for me, please!”  She nodded, confused.  
  
 **“CATACLYSM!”**  
  
She jerked back as he called on his ultimate power.  He raised his feline eyes to meet her human ones, and then he slowly extended his right hand, crackling with black energy.  “I walk the rooftops of Paris, and I hold in my right hand the essence of Destruction.  I have been told—and I may not tell you by whom—that I was chosen for this because _I get it_.  I know in my heart how much it would hurt if I lost control of this power.  Something like this should never be entrusted to somebody without a sense of humor: it could go so wrong, so quickly.”  He suddenly reached out one clawed finger and touched the empty cup in Alya’s hand. She squeaked in surprise as it crumbled to dust that scattered in the breeze.  “I don’t know if this kind of power scares you, but it certainly frightens me.  So, yeah, puns. Jokes.  My personal light against the darkness.”  
  
Alya shuddered, “I see…I think.  No, I do see.  If you weren’t such a fun-loving flirt, if you were one of those dark, brooding types that are so popular in the comics and movies about superheroes…man, we’d never trust you, would we?  Not really.”  His answering smile was  heartbreaking to see.    
  
“All laughter is born of pain, Mademoiselle Césaire.  Before I became Chat Noir, I learned a lot about pain, and loneliness, and despair, and anger.  Yet…I can still laugh. That’s why I am Chat Noir.”  His ring beeped.  “Well!” more briskly, “this has been just a clawsome time, but the time has come for me to say… _Au Re-Purr!_ ”  He bowed.  
  
Alya snorted, “You, Chat Noir, are a dork…and we wouldn’t have you any other way.  Thank you for the interview.  For…everything.”  As Chat Noir bounded away, she turned to the camera.  “Well, that was…educational!  I think this is going to go down as my best interview yet.   Until next time!”  
  
  
* * *   
  
Across the city, a shaking hand reached out and pressed itself to a computer screen.  
  
“Oh, _minou_ …!”

**Author's Note:**

> This work is semi-autobiographical.


End file.
